Filthy Thoughts
by Kaliotrimma
Summary: Where circumstances require some cohabitation, naughty situations are sure to arise, and people are sure to wonder. 8059 LEMON


Rofl, WHY WHYYYY. This is totally not in the same universe as Filthy Habits, I just wanted to keep a naming pattern for... some reason. Ahaha. O hai sex. (WHY?) So some more OOC moments for Gokudera and Yamamoto! But some people like it O.o;;

* * *

"Ow- Takeshi, what are you- nnn." I was doing something completely new, at least to me; I was melting. I wasn't completely sure what _he_ was doing, but it felt _so good._

Then it felt really really good, and I kicked him.

"Owww..." Yamamoto groaned, "That really hurt. And I'd just gotten you to relax. You really do hate me, don't you."

"I do not _want_ to relax." I spat. "I am now officially pissed at you."

"Oh, come on. Living with me won't be that bad."

Don't take that the wrong way; while I was living with him, it wasn't for _that_ kind of reason. Certain... circumstances had led to a temporary homeless state. The tenth was already so busy dealing with the dumb cow and Reborn, I couldn't bear the thought of imposing myself on him as well.

Thus, Yamamoto.

We'd grown a bit closer after an incident involving both of us being shot; me in the leg, him in the arm. And then we became even closer storming the base of the family that shot us. They got Hibari too, and I won't pretend I didn't enjoy that. But annihilating them had been fun as well. But our- grudging- closeness had resulted in a first-name basis.

I had no explanation readily available as to why I was letting Yamamoto massage me. I also had no explanation as to why he was doing it in the first place.

"Nn. Hayato?"

It was still a bit disconcerting to hear him call me that. "_What._"

"Are you still injured?"

"What, from the raid? Hell no." I was sprawled face down on the floor in his room. His hands were on my legs; he'd rolled my jeans up and was now tracing inane patterns on my calves. "Why?"

"Just wondering." His voice seemed a bit distant. I raised my head to look at him.

"Oi, is there something you aren't saying? You'd better spill it or I'll be mad pissed."

"Ahaha. You're perceptive, Hayato."

"Nn."

"I was just wondering about... well, if you really hated me as much as you seem to." His hands stilled on my legs. "And I was also wondering how you would react if I... did this."

I jerked suddenly, startled. His hand has just- he'd just- "Aaaaah! Takeshi! Haaaaaai! Don't _do_ that!"

I managed to flop over onto my back, my face turning red. He raised an eyebrow at me in Yamamoto-style confusion.

"Why would you do that!" I demanded, bewildered, flustered, angry, and more than a little turned on.

"To see how you would respond." Yamamoto said calmly, tickling my foot gently. I shuddered, trying not to laugh. "And I found out."

"Aaah-ah- let go!"

"Nah."

"What the hell do you plan on doing!" I was quickly discovering, now that he'd done the- the first unspeakable thing again, that when Yamamoto wanted to grope someone, they got groped. Also, I was bright red now, and... yeah, I was hard. It was difficult to avoid that, with him trailing his fingers down my stomach. Struggling did no good against him. In fact, that seemed to make him more determined, and, dare I say, enthusiastic. I suddenly got the feeling that he was going to molest me until I started screaming and lighting dynamite.

"Takesh- mm." I was planning to yell, make noise, do _something_ to make him get the hell off me. My priorities shifted to an extreme when he kissed me. My body and mind finally saw eye to... well, something like that. But whatever it was that they did, now they were screaming in unison for me to get _going_ and dive for the futon. So I stopped fighting back... for now. Of course, the only noise I could make now was a prolonged 'mm.' I was having some trouble breathing, what with a mouthful of his tongue. I didn't know Yamamoto was romance-savvy. I supposed that he wasn't really; he just knew what buttons to press for _me. _Anyone else might have screamed and ran, and, while part of me wanted to do so, most of me wanted to pull him closer.

I launched a counterattack then. My hands slammed hard against his chest, knocking him back. Our lips separated with a small pop, and I wasn't afraid to say that spit went everywhere, because it did. His expression was shocked, but he managed to catch his fingers into the fabric of my shirt, latching on tightly. Then, I knew. This was fucking war.

Literally, it was a _fucking_ war. As in, 'hot dirty sex' fucking. And I was _not_ going down without a fight. I had a feeling though, looking at the muscles his clothes failed to fully mask, that I would be losing said fight.

Not ten minutes later, I was covered in scratches and quickly-forming bruises, breathing hard, and stripped down to my underwear. Which had dynamite on it, because I'm lame sometimes. But only sometimes.

Yamamoto was better off; he'd kept his pants (Barely, I'd nearly gotten them when I nearly clawed his stomach open) but he was a bit more beaten up. He was _really_ buff for his age, and looked surprisingly attractive with light gouges taken out of his skin. I was so going to lose, but... I would probably enjoy it anyway.

He lunged, and I scrambled back; not fast enough, he caught my foot and tugged me towards him. He somehow managed to hold on despite me kicking him in the face with my other foot. I continued to beat on him as best I could, until he took a hold of my boxer shorts and tugged. Cold air hit my skin, and I hissed. I was also intensely angry and embarrassed; Yamamoto could see exactly how hot and bothered he'd gotten me.

I was redder now that any other time in my entire life. Scratch that, _now_ I was; he was feeling me up again.

"Takeshi, don't touch- don't you dare touch that..." I gasped, bucking as his fingers ghosted across my abdomen. "Takeshi! Ah-mm..."

He exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry."

"W-what...?"

"I didn't plan on doing this. I really didn't. But it's so hard to let go when you fight back so resolutely. I don't like losing. I know you don't like losing either. But I can't just... let go of you." He did let go now, but I knew he'd meant it in a metaphorical way. "I'm really sorry for doing this to you. You probably hate me right now."

As soon as he said that, I was furious. He'd felt me up, gotten me hard enough that it hurt, and taunted me with his... Yamamoto-ness, and now he was _backing off?_ The next thing I knew, I'd tackled him to the ground and kissed him quite forcefully. I was also aware that I was unbuttoning his pants.

"Don't you fucking apologize." I panted, "You're a man, right? Finish what you start."

He did. And it was something I wanted every day for the rest of my life.

"Ta- shit, we shouldn't be doing this- fuck." I turned out to be much quieter than I ever expected. I was too focused on feeling him as he moved inside of me, with that calm demeanour that was purely Yamamoto Takeshi. I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing. Actually, I was; I was letting him pound me into the floor.

To my acute embarrassment, my arms were wound tight around his neck, fingers splayed over his shoulder blades. My ass hurt like a bitch; let no one say that buggery isn't that bad. It's excellent. It just hurts a lot first. I lost track of his hands as they slid all over my body, never in the place I expected them to rest. He was unpredictable now, completely 

different from the way he had always been. He was rougher now, wilder. Less stoic and calm, more...

I lost track of what I was thinking. How _could_ I think, with his body pressed up against mine, and every motion he made forcing cold chills down my spine? My muscles were starting to protest the strange position I'd fallen into, and I bucked against him. My breath caught in a slight gasp, and I made my best attempt to knock him over. It worked; startled, Yamamoto fell back, still embedded inside of me. I was a little shocked that I had succeeded, but I wouldn't let him know.

It was harder than I thought to ride him, and not because he wouldn't keep still. It was because _I_ couldn't keep still. It felt good. I was trying my hardest to keep my composure, but I knew there were cracks in my facade. Especially with him grinning up at me. That actually just made me blush terribly. I was breathing hard, my arms hurt from holding my body up- it was possibly something like the most erotic push-ups ever- and I was practically coated in sweat. Which I knew was going to dry and smell bad. But he was going to smell bad too, because he was sweatier than me.

Then again, he was used to being sweaty, he played baseball.

"Give up?" He asked cheerfully, his voice only the slightest bit breathy. I would've punched him if he didn't have his dick up my ass. Actually, I might still have if I didn't like it so much. I failed to answer his question, and so as a result I found myself flat on my back again. Also, I was too stunned and tired to fight back. For a third thing, I was now so hard it hurt.

He was laughing at me. The bastard was _laughing at me_. He stopped laughing when I, without any warning, took a bite out of his shoulder and came. It must've been the shock that drove him over the edge, because he shuddered violently and spent himself inside of me. It was possibly the most awkward feeling ever, but, as uncomfortable as it was, I couldn't move a muscle. This was bolstered by the fact that Yamamoto had yet to get off me.

I noted with some disbelief that we were practically soaked. Sweat was dripping off my body, and while that was drying, the sperm coating our stomachs wasn't.

"Get off." I hissed, clawing at his back, "Oi! Get the hell off me!"

"Nnn." Yamamoto practically rolled off me, seemingly without effort. Damn him and his stamina. I sighed, my limbs feeling heavy. I closed my eyes and heard him chuckle.

"What's so damn funny?" I asked finally, too tired to be seriously angry.

"You bit me really hard. I think I'm bleeding."

"Argh. Then go wash the blood off."

"It's not _that_ bad," he said slowly. I knew he just didn't want to get up. I made my best attempt to move into a sitting position, feeling my body protest. I looked at his shoulder. There was, in fact, blood. I had a feeling that it would scar, and that satisfied me somehow.

I rolled over onto my stomach, totally defacing his floor. I didn't care, he could clean it up if it bothered him.

"Hey, Hayato."

"What?"

"We have school tomorrow."

Panic rose like some particularly evil bile. "Shit." This gave me the energy to spring up and grab him. "We need to take a shower."

"What, together?"

I'd walked into that. "_No not together._ I meant- well, maybe together- but the point is, I can't go to school like this! I've got- got- spe..."

"Sperm..." he said for me, noting my reluctance when it came to saying the word.

"Right, and it's all over me!"

"Dad's not going to be happy..."

"Well, try explaining to him why we're going to be wasting water."

"We could save a huge amount if we took a shower together."

"You just really can't stand it, can you." I deadpanned, looking at his eager face. It made me think of small animals, and despite appearances, I couldn't fight back against such a look. "Fine, we can take a shower together."

"Yes!"

"Um, Yamamoto-kun, how did you get that black eye?"

I sat at my desk, trying to be very, very quiet. The tenth had noted my scratches and bruises, and Yamamoto's, and had decided that we had fought. Which we had done... in a manner. Some of the girls in our class had seen Yamamoto's black eye - from when I kicked him in the face- and rushed to his side, while a few had seen my slight injuries and _tried_ to rush to my side.

They failed in that regard, hence the _tried_. Something intensely evil was brewing in my chest though, watching Yamamoto interacting with the rest of the class so casually. I wasn't jealous, that would require me liking him. And I totally didn't.

I threw a pencil at him. Not the most mature course of action, but I couldn't storm over to him and hit him, because it hurt to walk too fast. It hurt a lot. I was intensely glad that we didn't have gym today, but tomorrow would be awkward.

The pencil hit him in the nose. It made me somewhat happier, and that had _nothing_ to do with the fact that he grinned at me.

"_That's_ how I got my black eye. Hay- Gokudera kicked me." Yamamoto scratched the back of his neck. "I should go see what he wants before he throws a desk at me."

"I wouldn't throw a desk at you."I said clearly, "I'd throw a chair maybe."

"Haha, I don't think you'd really do that." He sat down next to me, scooting his chair over. "Why the pencil?"

"I was bored." I muttered. "And be more careful about calling me Hayato in public."

"Sorry, sorry, it just slipped out."

"People are already talking about it."

Yamamoto glanced around the room. I caught a snippet of conversation while he did so.

"... yeah, I think he nearly called Gokudera-kun Hayato. I didn't know they were that close."

"Heehee, maybe that's why Gokudera-kun kicked him? He doesn't like being called by his given name?"

"Very funny, I think they got into another fight. They never seem to get along very well..."

"You're right, they are talking about it." Yamamoto said finally. "And jeez, they know nothing about us."

"Oh, don't you make a joke. Ah! Morning tenth!"

"Good morning Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto-kun." The tenth seemed a little depressed as he sat down. "You guys aren't going to fight again, are you?"

"Fight?" Yamamoto said in a confused voice, looking at me. "Me and Gokudera?"

"I thought you guys got into a fight. I mean, you're all scratched up, and..."

"No way!" I said quickly. "We weren't fighting!"

"Oh. What happened? Did you get into some kind of trouble?" He seemed so genuinely worried that I felt terrible. I looked helplessly at Yamamoto. He shrugged, giving me a 'say whatever' look.

I couldn't lie to the tenth, it would be a totally betrayal of my loyalty. But I couldn't just tell him I'd had violent sex with Yamamoto.

Well, slightly violent. It was more like violence and _then_ sex. So... violent foreplay.

"It's not anything you should worry about." I said cheerfully. The tenth gave me a startled look, which shifted into deep suspicion. I then realized that he wouldn't believe me if I just said that. The tenth was now _more_ likely to think we'd been in a mafia-related scuffle.

"Are you sure?"

"It's really not something you need to worry about! We weren't fighting each other or anyone else."

"Then how did you get all of those... And I heard Yamamoto-kun say that you kicked him..."

Shit. "Um, well, it was really an accident- oh, screw this. The truth is..." I couldn't help myself. I had to lie. "We were actually riding bikes, and... well..."

Yamamoto pulled in seamlessly. "Bianchi walked by."

"Oh." The tenth took that at face value; it was easy to assume that I'd crashed and taken Yamamoto down with me.

I felt terrible lying to him though.

I had a stomach ache all day, and I was sure it was connected. After class, Yamamoto caught up with me right outside the school gate, the tenth jogging at his side.

"Oi! Hayato! School's out, telling him the truth won't cause an uproar."

Damn Yamamoto, he'd blown our cover. "Takeshi, you moron!" I screeched, before realizing I'd just made things worse.

"The truth... about what?" The tenth was completely clueless, but now he'd keep pestering until we cracked. I wanted to bash Yamamoto's head into a wall.

"About why we're so messed up today." Yamamoto said cheerfully. "The real truth is, Hayato got kicked out of his apartment for... some reason that he won't tell me. So he's going to be living with me until he can find a new place to stay."

"Haya- you mean Gokudera-kun? When did you guys start..."

"Oh, you remember when we raided the... the... I forgot the family, but the one we raided. Well we started using first names then."

I hunched my shoulders, waiting for him to reveal the double-whammy side to the 'I'm living with Yamamoto' story.

"So how did you get all of those scratches and bruises?"

The tenth was back to being worried, and I felt terrible. Yamamoto seemed like he didn't notice, and failed to say anything.

"Oh, just tell him, Takeshi!" I said finally, face red. "I don't care if he knows!"

"What, the truth? Oh, okay. I thought you might want me to come up with something less awkward."

"_Then why didn't you stick with the Bianchi story._"

"You don't own a bicycle." Yamamoto said matter-of-factly.

I nearly tripped. He was right, I didn't have a bike. Even I'd overlooked that.

"Will you just tell me what happened?"

I flinched. The tenth flinched. Yamamoto laughed.

"Well, the truth is, we..."

Yamamoto paused. I was humbled to see he was red in the face.

"We did some things... that is..."

I clenched my fists. "We h-had..."

Apparently we had both been stricken with 'can not spit it out.'

"Augh!" I threw my hands up in the air. "Takeshi just say it I can't!"

"I can't either!" He yelped back, looking distressed. "Now that it's all over, I can't talk about it!"

"Oh, sure, you can't say anything about it _now_, but you're perfectly okay with pounding me into the carpet! Oh hey I said it. _Ohmygod_."

"Hey, you did. But you didn't have to make me sound like a jerk."

Now we were a perfect trio of bright red teenaged boys.

"AHHHHH." It was the only thing I could think of saying. I thought the tenth might explode, so much blood was rushing to his face.

"You- and Yamamoto-kun- you..."

"Alright now that he knows I am completely calm about it." Yamamoto said happily. "Yeah, Tsuna. We had se- maybe I'm not so calm about it."

"Sex." I squeaked. "I kicked him in the face because..."

"I kind of... molested... him. I guess. He's really violent when it comes to... well, I guess it was foreplay." Yamamoto scratched the back of his neck again. "It was my fault."

"Damn right it was, if you didn't start tickling my leg this never would have happened. I'm sorry tenth, is this awkward?"

"A bit." Tsuna squeaked. He now resembled a tomato wearing a toupee. "You guys are kidding, right?"

I looked at Yamamoto. Yamamoto looked back. I shrugged. He grabbed my hand and kissed me. I squealed in the most masculine way possible and shoved him into a mailbox.

"Owwww. This is way too familiar." I'd kicked him in the shower and he'd nearly cracked his head open.

"But I _kicked_ you, and there was no mailbox."

"There was a wall though. And a faucet."

"It's not my fault you slipped." I grumbled.

"You didn't have to throw the shampoo at me either. Or the soap."

"And you didn't have to snap me on the ass with your towel. We're even."

"You took a shower together too?" The tenth asked disbelievingly. Yamamoto shrugged.

"Hayato freaked out a little because we had school today, and wasting water is bad."

"_What did your _dad_ say_?" Tsuna asked desperately.

"I told him Hayato dumped juice on me so I had to take another shower. He wouldn't bother a guest while I wasn't around."

"And he didn't, because I was in the shower too." I grumbled. "It was a gamble. But oh well."

"Next time we won't be so lucky." Yamamoto said cheerfully.

"There won't _be_ a next time."

"We should tell him."

"Why, so he can make red rice since you lost your virginity?"

"Hey, good idea. I meant about us being in a relationship, but that works too."

"We aren't in a relationship."

"You don't just have sex with your best friend."

"Why not."

"We're on a first-name basis."

"So." Tsuna was very very quiet. He could stay out of this, but I couldn't.

"You're bright red and happy looking."

I blushed even more. "Dammit man. We're _not_ telling your dad, there_ won't_ be a next time, and we are _not_ in a relation-mmm."

Damn him and his ways. He'd realized that kissing me makes me agree with him.

I gasped when he let go of me. "Okay we can tell your dad."

"And about us?"

"Fine whatever." I stammered, flustered and out of breath.

"And about a next time?"

"... yes."

There was a next time, and a time after that, and a time after _that_ time... and of course, there was red rice, some strange looks from Takeshi's father, and the consequence of it all was that I never moved back out.

* * *

YES! So... yeah. Oh poor Tunafish. Poor, poor, Tunafish. "You guys are joking, right? RIGHT? PLEASE SAY IT'S A CREEPY DREAM."

I am SO BAD at writing Tunafish.


End file.
